Teaching Empathy Through History: How to Use Travel to Build Compassionate Kids
Traveling through historic sites, we’ve found that bringing history to life isn’t about memorizing dates or battles but about helping our kids imagine the daily lives of people from the past. We try to connect with the personalities and places we visit, showing our kids that people across time, just like today, had dreams, friendships, and routines that tied them to each other.
At George Washington’s home in Mount Vernon, for instance, we didn’t just talk about him as a founding father of our nation. We walked through the rooms where he ate and the gardens he loved, talking about his role as a farmer and his care for the land. We imagined him returning here after the war, hoping to find peace, just as any family does after a hard journey. We pointed out the large staff it took to keep the household running—staff to cook, wash clothes, and tend to the grounds. Our kids found it funny (and a bit shocking) that, without modern appliances, they couldn’t just toss clothes in a washing machine. Yet it made them appreciate the shared work that went into making a home run smoothly, then and now.
When we visited Yorktown, where Washington led the final battle of the Revolution, we tried to connect that victory back to the person we’d met at his home. We talked about how he must have missed Mount Vernon, thinking of home while working alongside soldiers far from their own families. As we walked through the recreated encampment, the kids wondered if they played games during downtime or shared stories by campfires to ease the homesickness. These questions helped them see that even in the most serious moments, people needed connection and joy, just like we do on our own journey.
At Williamsburg, where life was slower and less convenient, the kids saw how people cooked on open hearths and played simple games. We asked them what games they might have played if they’d lived in colonial times. They agreed they’d miss their iPads but thoroughly enjoyed running around with sticks and creating their own games in the village. Watching Jack’s fascination at the gunsmith’s shop or James’s awe at the blacksmith (the “hammer house”) brought history into their imaginations, helping them see these figures as real people with skills, hobbies, and the drive to create.
Jamestown brought more complex stories. When we explained the dangers settlers faced from disease, hunger, and harsh conditions, we talked about the strength it must’ve taken just to survive. The kids related when we mentioned that settlers had to depend on each other for everything—food, care, friendship, and protection. Lorelei asked how many children would have lived through that first winter, which led to talking about the importance of community and resilience. James, clutching Adeline’s hand as they climbed into a replica of the ship that brought the settlers, seemed to understand that, back then, families needed each other in ways we can hardly imagine.
And even at sites tied to darker parts of history, like Charleston’s historic slave market, we tried to connect to basic human emotions—dignity, freedom, and hope. It’s not easy to talk about the reality of people being sold or families being separated, but the kids could sense the weight of those stories in the place itself. We reminded them of what a privilege it is to be together and free, as Lorelei contemplated how awful it would be not to have her siblings nearby.
As we move from place to place, connecting these sites and stories has become a way for our family to understand that, although technology has changed, people’s needs haven’t. Today, we don’t need a team of people to keep our home running, but just like people back then, we need each other’s help and encouragement. Whether it’s Adeline holding James’s hand, Jack opening a door for his sisters, or all of us pitching in to make dinner, these little acts remind us that connection, hope, and perseverance tie us to people of every era.
It’s an ongoing journey to relate these lives and stories to our own, but we’re finding that when we focus on the everyday experiences—cooking, games, and the need for friendship—the past becomes less about dates and more about shared humanity. And in each place, we see our kids starting to understand that history is filled with people who, like us, faced challenges, pursued dreams, and leaned on each other to carry on. Both then and now, we each are shaping America and ourselves into what we hope to be.
